Talking Funny
by Godsliltippy
Summary: It's early and Gordon was hoping to deal with his problem before his brothers woke up.


Gordon didn't feel bad. No fever, no headache, no overwhelming fatigue, but he was certain he was sick and that was going to make today infinitely more difficult. Today was iR's scheduled training day and typically an enjoyable time. There was nothing quite like beating an older brother in a race to the "victim" and he and Alan had a bet this month. They would best everyone and get first dibs on the evening movie. Gordon already had a horror flick picked out that involved scientists trapped at the bottom of the ocean with monsters. Ridiculous, but entertaining - to him and his brother, at least.

The problem was, if one of the elder brothers discovered he wasn't up to par, he would be on the sidelines with no chance of victory unless Alan could pull off the wins on his own. The other problem, he couldn't just hide in his room until they were ready to begin. Technically, he should have been in the pool half an hour ago, but he could blame that on a late night of reading new articles on the reconstruction of the Supreme Barrier Reef.

Maybe some coffee. Possibly tea. Probably tea. That would help. Right?

Gordon made his way into the kitchen, catching the view of the sun just cresting the horizon - and froze.

"Hey, sleepy head," Virgil greeted, way too cheerful for this hour. The shocked expression must have clued his brother into the aquanaut's confusion. "Had a call come in a few hours ago. Just got back. Making some breakfast before I go crash for a bit. You want some?"

Gordon achieved a tired smile, pointing at the coffee maker that was empty and quickly getting to work making it. His mind was screaming at him to abandon the task. Of all his brothers, Virgil would be the one to call him out for being off and that would lead to the medic side of him taking over. But he couldn't leave. Gordon was committed to his task and the faster it was done, the sooner he might have a remedy for his plight.

Virgil went back to messing with the pans he had on the stove, the sound of meat sizzling evident. Too bad Gordon could barely smell it.

"You missed a good rescue," the engineer mused absently. "Bunch of NFL players got trapped in their bus after it got knocked off the road by a rock slide."

It couldn't be helped. It was a gut reaction, after all. The whine was short, but he could hear the scratchiness and hoped he cut it off fast enough.

Virgil just laughed. "I know, right! They might have left a ball or two with me, if you want to check them out later."

Oh, he did. And he would, as soon as his brother finished his food and took himself up to bed. There would be too much to talk about if they both went to see them.

The coffee pot continued to make the static sounds of water trying to boil - not fast enough for his liking - and he tried lean casually on the counter.

Whatever Virgil had been cooking was done before the coffee started dripping and he was plating eggs and ham with a side glance that Gordon tried to ignore.

"You sure you don't want any?" The engineer sounded slightly suspicious.

He waved him off, hiding behind a calculated yawn. Why did his brother have to be here?

Four slices of toast made their way onto the plate, but it didn't move to the dining table as he'd hopped. Instead, Virgil placed his fork against the still steaming eggs and mimicked his younger brother's lean against the countertop.

"Everything alright?" He asked, taking a bite of the buttered bread. "You're awfully quiet this morning."

Dammit, Virg - Gordon shrugged, shifting the coffee pot as thought it could make the machine work faster.

"Another nightmare?"

Amber turned in exasperation to glare at his big brother. It had been a while since his last dream about his accident and he had enough coping skills to work through them. He didn't need Virgil worrying about something that wasn't an issue at the moment.

He shook his head, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

"Gordon," Dark brown was watching him closely now. There was no getting around it. He needed to appease his brother's worry.

"I'm fine -" Crap. It came out a crackling whisper that tickled his throat and made him want to cough. He held it in, not wanting to add to the disaster that had already slipped out.

"Um, doesn't sound like it, Gordo," breakfast was abandoned completely. "Wanna try that again?"

He cleared his throat, hoping it was just the drainage settling that had caused his voice to sound harsh. "I said I'm fine." And he knew immediately that he'd been found out. His voice remained barely a whisper and this time he did cough, dry and thick.

In the matter of a split second, Virgil had gone from suspicious older brother to fully analyzing medic. His palm pressed to Gordon's forehead and the blonde groaned in defeat.

"Open," the medic had his thumb pressed to his chin, encouraging his mouth open while the hand on his forehead tilted his head towards the ceiling light. "No fever, but your throat looks a little red. Any other symptoms?"

Gordon batted the arms away, feeling his defiance rise. He felt fine! This shouldn't be an issue. "No, just sound gross, that's all." And man, he sounded pretty bad.

"Alright," Virgil grabbed his shoulders and spun him towards the stairs up to the lounge. "You're going to go lay down on the couch and I'm going to make you tea and get you something from the infirmary. No swimming today."

An indignant whine escaped as he was lead up the steps. "Virg, that's not fair!"

"And stop talking," he ordered. "You'll just make it worse."

"Don't tell Scott," it came out high pitched and desperate as Gordon ignored the instruction.

Virgil didn't answer, depositing his little brother onto the closest couch before disappearing back into the kitchen. Gordon was left to stare out the patio window, angry at himself for even thinking he could convince his second eldest. He still didn't feel bad, which only made this worse. If he felt terrible, he would enjoy some smothering by his brothers. Now, it just felt like a waste of their time.

Footsteps sounded the return of Virgil, a mug making its way into his view, along with a pair of pills he knew were for mild pain relief. Gordon took a sip of the tea before trying to swallow the medicine, his mood still sour regardless how the warm liquid made his throat feel.

"Better?" Virgil asked, his own breakfast plate sitting on his lap.

"A little bit," and he did sound clearer. "This sucks."

"What do you mean?" The question came out between chews of ham and egg.

"You know Scott's not gonna let me train today," Gordon pouted, taking another sip from his mug.

The engineer was well aware of what his two youngest brothers had planned. It would be a win for the elders if they benched the aquanaut.

He had forgotten, however, that he was Virgil's co-pilot, wingman, and the man would bend the rules just enough if he thought Gordon was safe to participate.

"I have an idea," a grin spread over his face that made the blonde regard him for a long moment. "It's been a while since we've done nonverbal communication training."

Gordon met his brother's smile with his own, lifting a hand to give a thumbs up. Sure, the training difficulty would intensify, but he and Alan had their own communication strategies that could be used against their brothers. This would only serve to improve their chances of winning.

"Thanks, Virg." he wheezed happily.

"Now, stop talking and drink your tea before I change my mind," Virgil teased with a ruffle of his hair.

That would not be a problem and tonight, they could all enjoy over the top jump scares at the bottom of the sea.


End file.
